Ring Around the Rosie
by OnceUponALullaby
Summary: Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. AkuSora


Ring Around the Rosie

**i. **_Ring around the Rosie_

Music, the rhythm of the beat pulsing through your body. Weave, dance, shiver, grind, making your way through the crowd, downing a couple shots along the way. Protests are thrown as you steal a couple's drink, placing the empty shot glass down on the counter and wandering away again. It doesn't matter; they can't find you here. The lights are dim; your clothes are nondescript and black. The shadows follow you, practically meld with you. There is no chance they can catch you - not that you'd let them get a look at your face, anyways.

You are free tonight. It is the one chance you have to get away from it all, where nothing exists but the dance floor and its occupants, the drink and the company.

As you finally arrive at the center of the dance floor, memories wrack your body. _There should be another person here_, your mind whispers. _There should be someone with you. Where is he?_

You wave the thought away; block it out from your mind. You came to have a good time. There would be no reminders of the very thing you were trying to forget. You start to get into the rhythm of the music, fast and demanding, when suddenly, you can feel someone's stare on your back. Unbidden, you swivel around to face them. A familiar black trench coat greets your sight, hood drawn up to slightly cover the owner's hair. It's long, perhaps a bit spikier than it was supposed to be, but you don't really care. The stance is the same, and maybe the lights are a bit too dim to say for sure, but you are a believer in destiny. It's fate, you can tell, that you both met at the same club that night. And who were you to stop that?

_Forget about the accident,_ your mind whispers seductively. _That nurse was lying to you. I bet she wanted him all to herself- kept him away, trapped in a locket, never to grow old. And he's here now-_ you suck in a breath- _so go. Before he gets stolen again._ The voice is angry, insistent. She lied. He is still here. Everything is fine again. What are you even _doing_ at this club?

_So unfaithful,_ the voice hisses. _He risked everything for you, and this is how you repay him?_

You reply by whisking around and running headfast into _his_ arms- but they feel different, somehow. Was he always this skinny?

A mouth presses into your hair, whispers of _"Oh God you're back"_ floating in the air. And then, you glance up, ready to press your lips to that insistent mouth- _it's been so, so long_- and your dreams are-

Shattered.

* * *

**ii.** _A pocket full of posies_

I sit here at the bar tonight, fully intent on drowning my sorrows in some cheap beer, maybe vodka and Red Bull. Nothing better then some vodka and Red Bull. Took away from the bitter taste, anyways.

I sighed. "Sweet mother of God, I'm such a loser."

Shaking my head, I rise from the barstool, sliding the half-empty- sorry, half-_full_- glass back to the bartender. _Through the crowd you go now_, I hum to myself. _Find yourself a chick, maybe, just someone to get you out of this slump..._ so I make my way to the center, slipping lithely in-between couples. _Somebody short... with blue eyes. They've got to have blue eyes._ God, I am so out of it. And the past is the past.

I knew it would hurt. From the very beginning, I knew it would hurt, eventually. I just didn't know the healing process would take so long.

So I comb through the crowd, my gaze finally coming to rest on someone who - would you look at that? - looks like he was just under 5'7". _They're even the same height. He's perfect._ And then he turns to the side slightly, just so that I catch the corner of his eyes in the flashing strobe lights.

_Blue._

_Blue as a button,_ I thought. The lighting is dim, so I can't be one-hundred percent certain- but it is there. My breath catches in my throat as the kid faces away from me, and I can't look away, staring so hard that it's a miracle I wasn't burning holes in his back. As if bidden, he pivots again, and the spotlight flickers over him, so in that one second our gazes met I am drowning in-

_Blue. Crystal polar ice caps, melting in the sun, shot with the same color as the ice cream we loved to eat so much-_

But I can't be serious; there is no way it is him. _Him_. Why would he be here, anyways? _He made it clear he didn't want to see me after he dumped my ass in front of the school,_ I think. I turn away, determined to get away from the kid who looks so much like _him_ but wasn't, but then he launches himself at me and buries his face in my neck. And then, I _knew_.

_He's come to his senses. He's come back. He's mine. I'm his. _This is a dream. And then I'd wake up and realize that in real life, this would _never, ever_ happen. But someone nudges me in the back, elbow sharp against my spine, and I realize that maybe, I just needed to live loose. If it really _was_ a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

I bury my face in his hair- still in spikes, of course- breathing in the scent. It isn't the clean smell of bar soap I was so used to though, and I recognize strawberry-vanilla-cream. Maybe he changed shampoos when I was gone?

I murmur something sappy, what it was, I can't recall, and his arms tighten around my middle. _God, don't start crying right now, Ax. _The tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes, and I feel the boy- _him_, I knew now- shift in my arms. I steady myself- _he is going to kiss me, of course_- and _I've gotta prove I'm good enough for him._ His head rises, and I push his chin up with the tip of my finger. Those beautiful blue eyes were hidden by bangs at first, but slowly, they peek out from behind the veil, and just as I am about to lean forward I look into them, ready to proclaim my everlasting love, just take me back, please, take me back, and am met with-

Innocence.

But _he's _never held innocence before.

* * *

**iii. **_Ashes, ashes_

With a jolt, you find yourself staring into the eyes of a stranger; emerald-green, cat-like, and piercing. Who is this man? _Not him_, that much is clear. But you don't pull away; your body feels much too heavy to be moving at all. Your feet are deadweights; your arms suddenly feel like lead. Your throat is parched; the thirstiest man in the world suddenly gifted with the Spring of Youth, only to have it snatched away. Slowly, your arms loosen, stuttered apologies finding their way through your chapped lips.

"_Wait_," he murmurs, catching onto your arm. You're pulled backwards, and he looks at you again, clearly now. Fingers pull at your hair, inspecting it, green eyes narrowing then softening imperceptibly.

"_You look a lot like someone I used to know."_

"_I know,"_ you answer. "_You remind me of him, too."_

"_Him?"_

"_Yes," _your throat constricts. "_He..."_ mere words could not do him justice.

"_Oh. I see."_ He looks sad, regretful. Then- "_Would you like to dance?"_

_Would you like to dance? _Memories tighten their grip on reality, the face of the stranger morphing into _him_. Your hands reach up to tangle in fire-engine-red hair, so different from the flowing silver you first mistook it for.

You crack open your lips, lick them nervously. "_To dance..."_ a shudder, _"to dance would be the greatest pleasure."_

He slips into the roll easily, tightening his hold on your waist. _"As you insist..."_ a smirk, _"My Lady."_

_It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts._ They are so alike. They are so different. And you are so very much alone.

He is not offering attachment, but a dance. Maybe, tonight will be your closure. And it's _so _easy to pretend.

Tonight, you will have your fun.

Then, you will let him go.

* * *

**iii.** _We all fall_

"He had blue eyes," I whisper in the boy's ear. I don't notice the past-tense until it's already out of my mouth. His eyes are glazed over, a distant, far-away look on his face. "Blue eyes. And blond hair."

Silence.

"He looked a lot like you."

He stared at me like he could see right into my soul, right then and there. _"His hair,"_ he starts, then swallows thickly. _"His eyes were green. And he was..."_

I nod. "Perfect, right?"

He swallows again. _"Perfect."_

I close my eyes and breathe in his scent, that strawberry-vanilla-cream. And then an image comes to mind; me, with _him_, dancing together. And for a second, I imagine it's not just some lookalike kid I'm with, but _him_, for real.

I hear the boy laugh, and open my eyes again.

"_You're pretending," _he whispers. _"But that's okay. I'm pretending, too."_

We have no shame, no eyes for anything but the past. _"We can pretend."_

I wonder who he sees in his head, a lost love with green eyes and pale skin. I concentrate, and my demeanor softens as brown spikes change to a sunset-yellow, blue eyes becoming slightly paler, skin becoming less tan.

Poison lips reach up to touch mine, and it suddenly flashes in my mind what an awful thing we're doing, what a blatant disregard for human rights we're both displaying.

But it's only for tonight, and then we'll never see each other again. So I reach back up, and, with venom and acid pumping through my veins, I kiss him again. And again.

It doesn't feel the same; even though they have the same build, I can tell the difference between them. I hear him shudder brokenly, murmuring a quiet _"Riku..."_ and it strikes me that I'm probably taking advantage of him.

But it's only for tonight. So I lean back into his poison touch, wish away the innocence in those bright blue eyes, and together, companions in sorrow, we

all

fall

* * *

**vi.** _down._


End file.
